Decompression
by Simply-Cath
Summary: "The way I see it, we both need to clear our heads." After a breakup, some women go shopping, some women eat ice cream. Summer Rae is not most women. Pure smut.


TITLE: Decompression  
AUTHOR: Cath  
DISCLAIMER: Names trademarked by WWE, don't own the people invovled, this didn't happen.  
DISTRIBUTION: Get my permission first. Go on, ask, you know you want to.  
RATING: M  
CONTENT: M/F Smut, very saucy language, suggestive innuendo, some implied violence  
SPOILERS: Nothing specific.  
SUMMARY: "The way I see it, we both need to clear our heads."  
NOTES: Don't ask me why this pairing; I couldn't even begin to tell you.

Summer walked past the assorted Divas and superstars, kept going past the ring crew and past the arena's workers until there was virtually no one around. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, craning her ears until she finally heard a voice muttering and footsteps pacing.

She cleared her throat and followed the noises. The lights were mostly off.

The man she was looking for was pacing in front of a piece of chain link fence, his taped up fist pressed to his lips. His heavy boots clacked against the floor with every step. Every instinct in her body, every ounce of common sense told her to turn around and go back.

Summer stepped forward. When he got close enough, she reached out and touched his forearm. "Ambrose."

He jumped back like a tomcat, back arched, ready to strike. "What the fuck?!" He snapped. "What-?"

"Hi," Summer said, her voice low and quiet. She took a step towards him. "We need to talk."

"What?" His blue eyes were wide, staring at her like they weren't speaking the same language. He held his hand up to the side of his face, blocking her from his vision. "Get out." He hunched his shoulders and started to pace again. "Get out."

"I said," Summer stepped into his way. "We need to talk."

His fingers curled around her arm, and she grunted as she hit the fence, her teeth rattling. He was in her face, all wide eyed and wet lipped. "Get out."

"No."

"Listen, Girlie..."

She slapped him across the face, hard enough to snap his head to the side. His eyes had gotten even wider and she drew herself up to her full height. "I'm no girl." She pressed on. "And you're not stupid."

His hands clenched and his mouth fell open and shut. He punched the fence beside her head. "Why are you down here, Summer?"

"Glad we're up to multi word sentences. Rollins is making you stupid." She snapped. "Just like Johnny's making me stupid."

"What the hell are you even talking about?"

Okay, he sounded exasperated, but at least they were on the same planet. God, this had sounded way better in her head; but now that she was here, talking to him, her heart was hammering in her chest. "We're both screwed up, losing matches we shouldn't lose, all because of them. We both need to get our heads back in the game."

He still hadn't moved. She could smell the nicotine on his breath. Eventually, a soft chuckle bubbled past his lips. "My head isn't the place to be at the best of times."

"Yeah, well, mine's not exactly terrific right now, either."

"Why are you even here?" Ambrose stared at her, as if expecting her to disappear at any second.

Summer grabbed him by the hair, lunging up off the fence to crush their mouths together. His lips parted in shock and she took advantage, shoving her tongue into his mouth. He kind of tasted like chocolate.

He stumbled back like she'd shot him. His eyes never left her face. Dean wiped his lips on the back of his hand and his white wrist tape came away stained pink with her lipstick. "I," his voice was odd, as if a hundred thoughts were trying to force their way out of his mouth at once. "I don't know what you're playing at, but trust me, sweetheart, you don't wanna play with me."

"That's exactly what I want." Summer nodded. "We both need to blow off some steam."

"And people think I'm crazy." He muttered, then stared at her, his head cocked.

She dug her nails into the back of his neck, pulling him close again. "Crazy works for me." She slanted her mouth against his, closing her eyes when his tongue duelled aggressively with hers. He grabbed the chain link fence on either side of her head.

His hand found its way to her hip. Summer shuddered and slid her thigh between his legs.

Dean let out a low growl and grasped the hem of Summer's skirt, hiking it up around her waist. The barely there blue thong she wore got tossed over his shoulder. He kissed her hard, then lunged against her, biting the spot where neck met shoulder. His rough, callused fingers followed the line of her pelvic bone, then slipped into her. He let out a low, sibilant hiss as her nails scored the nape of his neck.

The tape on his wrists rasped against her skin. It was like there were three of him, touching everywhere, quicker than her mind could take it in. Her lips parted in a soundless groan as he slid two fingers into her, his thumb grinding against her clit. Summer parted her legs a bit wider, rocking against him. "Wait..." She reached into her blouse, pulling a foil wrapper from between her breasts. Seeing the look on his face, she shrugged. "Where else was I going to keep it on this outfit?"

He snatched the condom from her outstretched fingers, undid his jeans with more finesse than she would have expected and shoved them partway down his thigh. Once the condom was in place, he grasped his dick and slid into her, both of them grunting in satisfaction as he slid home.

Summer held on to the chain link fence with one hand and the back of his neck with the other. She twisted a leg up around his, meeting his brutal lunges with equal power. His mouth never left her neck or shoulder, ruining her skin with all kinds of bites.

She tilted her head, catching his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, then his lips. A primal, keening sound built up in the back of her throat. She bit down on Dean's lower lip, provoking a sound that was dangerously close to a growl.

He pulled out just long enough to wrap her legs around his waist. She threw her head back, then surged up against him, her hair hiding their faces from the world as she attacked his mouth over and over again.

It could have lasted hours, or minutes, it didn't matter. Pure, white heat erupted behind her closed eyelids and she thrashed against him. Summer kissed him hard, muffling her groans as she came, bucking as she felt his pace quicken, grow erratic and he finally let loose, groaning something that might have been her name.

Wincing, she unwound herself from him. She leaned against the fence, panting. Not trusting her legs to hold her upright just yet, Summer did her best to fix herself up, smoothing her skirt and trying to get her shirt straightened out. She peeked over his shoulder, trying to puzzle out where he'd tossed her thong. Eh, fuck it.

Dean tucked himself back into his jeans, disposed of the condom in a nearby trashcan and returned with a lit cigarette dangling between his teeth. She walked up to him and he backed up half a step. "You're not-" He grunted when she plucked the cig from his mouth. Before he could say anything, she took a long drag, handing it back to him before exhaling. "Cigarettes are bad for you."

"You're right." Summer took the smoke again, and sat down on a crate. "Saved your life."

Dean looked down at her, at a loss for words. He grabbed another smoke and lit up. "What the hell was this?"

Summer widened her eyes and licked her lips. "I... I love you, Dean. Always have."

The cigarette fell from his slack lips.

Laughing, Summer stepped up and slid down to her knees, picking up the cancer stick and putting it back into his mouth. "Relax. Like I told you, I needed something to clear my head and figured you did too; go ahead, tell me you don't feel a little better."

He took a long drag and shrugged. "Still need to cave Rollins' skull in."

"You're so romantic." Summer grinned. "Although..."

o(0)o

It was never hard to find the Authority. All you had to do was look for the biggest, most obnoxious change room and they were never far.

Rollins and Orton were standing in the hallway, chatting it up. Summer ducked her chin and walked over, putting her hand on Seth's arm. "Hey, Seth."

His eyes skimmed up her jeans, stopped at the plunging neckline of her shirt for nearly a minute, then met her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Well you happen to be just the man I wanted to see." She smiled brightly. "I'm really looking to make a name for myself among the Divas. I thought you might be the man to talk to about improving my _position_ with The Authority, you know?" Her fingertips traveled down his arm, across his hand and settled on his hip. With her free hand, she flicked her hair over her shoulder.

Randy smirked knowingly. "Actually, I was just heading out. You two have fun." He disappeared into the change room.

Now that they were alone in the hall, Seth turned to face her. "So where do you want to do this?"

"My locker room," she nodded. "It's private and out of the way." She leaned in to whisper in his ear. Summer trailed a finger down the length of his dark grey silk tie, past the tip and traced the outline of his belt buckle. "I get loud."

"Lead the way," he drawled, his eyes following the path of her finger.

Summer flicked his tie playfully, then started down the hallway, adding an extra sway to her hips.

Hot guys thought everyone wanted them.

After a few twists and turns, she opened the door to her locker room.

Anything Seth was about to say died on his tongue when she took her shirt off. There was something about a chick in jeans and a bra that had always fired him up.

Summer's lips curved into a smile and she pushed him up against the wall. A single step closed the gap between them and she kissed him hard, grunting when his hand twisted into her hair. She cupped him through his slacks. "Close your eyes."

Seth grunted and kissed her again.

"Close your eyes, babe," she whispered once more. "I'll make it worth your while."

Seth's hands twitched in her hair, but he did it. His brow furrowed when she moved away from him, but he kept them shut. He heard some shuffling. "Hey..."

"Hey, babe."

The last thing Seth saw was Dean's fist flying at his face.

o(0)o

Summer zipped her bag shut to the tune of Dean washing his hands in the bathroom. She looked over at him as he stepped out. "Feeling better?"

Ambrose took a moment to consider the question. "Yeah. Still wanna beat his ass in front of the whole world, but yeah."

"Kinky." She looked down at Seth's unconscious body, then knelt in front of him. Before Ambrose could do anything, Summer undid Rollins' tie and bound his hands behind his back. She stood up and straightened out her shirt. "Better."

"You call me kinky."

A single eyebrow arched when he opened the door her. She walked past, resting a hand over his heart. "Oh, Dean," she murmured. "You have no idea."

They walked in silence towards the parking lot. Summer slung her gym bag over her shoulder. In fact, she'd nearly forgotten he was there when he spoke again.

"Wanna kick the shit outta Fandango?"

Summer hummed thoughtfully, and shook her head. "No. Honestly, I think I'm over him."

"Wanna get drunk and fuck?"

"It's like you've known me my whole life."

THE END

No idea where this one came from, but what the hell?

Cath


End file.
